Insanity at Its Finest
by pugswanthugs
Summary: I once heard a saying that life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get. That saying is true, but sometimes you have to steal some of someone else's chocolates, which was why I decided to rob Gotham National Bank. After being reprimanded and sent to Arkham Asylum by my 'dad', Bruce Wayne, my life spiraled out of control. T for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

I once heard a saying that life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get. That saying is true, but sometimes you have to steal some of someone else's chocolates, which was why I decided to rob Gotham National Bank. Don't get me wrong, I don't need the money, hell, I may throw it in some homeless person's trashcan fire, give 'em a little something to keep them warm at night. No, I wasn't doing it for the money, I was doing it to annoy my parents.

You see, my parents are heroes. "Bruce Wayne "Dad", or better known to me as "Batbrain", has been having to deal with a mysterious rogue's heists for two weeks now. His estranged partner in crime, "Selina Wayne", "Mom" or "The Cat Lady", has been helping him to unsuccesfully attempt to capture Zero, or me- Clarabel Wayne. They're not my real parents, but I've known 'em all my life. Considering the fact I don't know you that well, I'll leave the details at bay for now. Let's fast forward to the scene of the crime, ten minutes pre-breach.

* * *

The underpaid security wasn't a problem for me to take care of. I leaped off of the Gotham Library's roof, silently landing on the balls of my feet, right behind the Rent-A-Cop. Throwing a quick jab to the Cortex nerve, he crumpled like aluminum foil. I led him to the ground, as not to catch the eye of his cop-cronies. Swiping his low-access security card (All I would need, for now), I ran to the back enterance.

"Access Granted" The automated voice said, and the door clicked open. Entering, I tossed the card to the floor, entered the bathroom and took the makeshift grenade (a bit of fireworks here, a dash of spark powder there...) out of my pocket. I readjusted my mask, making sure it covered my eyes and higher cheekbone, and retied my blonde pigtails. After making sure my alias costume was intact, I exited the Ladies' Room. After placing the WayneTech tactical Radio Jammer next to the trancsiever station and pulling the emergency lock switch, I entered the lobby.

"Okay, listen up!" I shouted, catching the attention of the two guards standing inside the bank, along with the general public and bank keeper. "I want 500 grand, all in ten thousands!"

The guards pulled their guns, firing. I did a back-handspring behind a large counter with ease. I pulled one of Dad's stolen batarangs, and threw it at the barrel of the first guard's gun. It hit dead-on, knocking the gun out of his hand and subsequently hitting the second's gun out of his hand in the proccess.

"Five- five hundred thousand?" The bank clerk asked incredulously.

"That's right- 500,000, all in Salmon Chase's **(Author's note- Dude on the ten thousand dollar bill). **Got a problem with that?"

"No." He said immediately, and took the burlap sack I threw at him and began filling it with fresh bills. I glanced over to the rent a cops, trying unsuccessfuly to radio into the Gotham Police Force.

"Don't try." I said bluntly, as the guy returned from the vault with large stacks of more money. "I got a jammer in here somewhere."

The clerk finished handing over the money. I tossed the grenade at the east side of the bank, and it exploded, leaving a gaping hole for my escape.

"See ya later, chumps!" I said as the white truck collided with the other side of the bank. I dove out of the way just in time from a chunk of the wall flew into where my head would have been. Tucking myself away behind the counter again, clutching the bag, I heard doors open. There were screams, demands of money, and several gunshots before a voice finally said, "Let's pack 'em away, boys! Me and Harl's will be there in a minute. Bring the truck around front; We'll meet you there in three."

I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they hadn't spotted me when a hand tapped my shoulder.

I turned to see a man, stark white with scars forming a smile on the sides of his mouth, green hair and wild emerald eyes.

He giggled, and tutted, "Girlie, you shouldn't be here. Don't you know there's a robbery going on?"

I held my ground, but said that I was attempting to rob the bank as well. He giggled agian, and said, "You've got spunk, kid. I'll let you go this one time. If you can get back without getting batnapped you, you've got it in you."

The clown man turned in annoyance towards a Boston accent, "Puddin', we got all the money! I think we're ready to go, Mistah J! Oh, wait-" There was a weak cry, the sound of a hammer hitting something, probably a skull, and then, "Now we're ready to go, puddin'!"

He sighed in annoyance, muttering something like, "stupid wench", and winked at me. "I'd get going if I were you. The sirens are getting closer."

I scrambled up and ran out the hole I'd blown in the wall, lugging the burlap sack over my shoulder. "Thanks!" I called, before disappearing into the alley.

* * *

I wiped the nervous sweat off my brow, glancing at the Batsignal in the sky. I was about to dump the money in a trashcan a mile and a half north of the bank- or what was left of it. I opened the trash can anyways, bringing out the large WayneTech indestructible vial I'd filled with propane earlier, and emptying it into the can also. I lit the lighter, and tossed it in. A black gloved hand yanked me back before my eyebrows could get singed off, which I could have done myself if Batbrain wasn't so goddamn full of himself. Before he could grab my other hand, I grabbed the other grenade I'd brought.

"Drop the grenade." The all too familiar engineered voice commanded. I rolled my eyes beneath my mask, and he snatched the explosive from me. He grabbed me with one hand, and grappled up to an adjacent roof right before the alley exploded. He checked me for any other weapons, which I had several of, and took my mask off.

"Clara." He said in astonishment.

* * *

I had been dragged home, after Bruce lied to the police, saying Zero had killed herself in the alley that night.

"Clara." He said in the Batmobile after a long silence. "I'm disappointed in you."

I rolled my eyes in the passenger side.

"Your mother, you and I are going to have a talk about this."

"Cat Lady's in this too?" I said sarcastically.

"Don't speak about your mother that way." He growled, but patiently.

"Then why won't you let me go out with you!" I said exasperatedly. "You're too protective, and Mom's just too afraid!"

"You nearly killed a dozen people." He continued, ignoring me. "If it weren't for the Joker's appearance, you could have been held responsible for the entire thing. I knew I couldn't get him from inside the bank, it was too open, so I went for you after he let you go. If he had taken you with him... I can't even..." He stopped.

We arrived at Wayne Manor, and I was brought inside. "Hello Master Wayne. Young Master Wayne." Alfred greeted. When there was no answer, he said solemnly to himself, "This can't be good."

"Selina." Bruce said. "I've got her."

My mother appeared, already in her alias costume. I guess she was going to look for me too. During previous abscences of mine as Zero, Bruce and Selina had never noticed, always off on other excursions as Catwoman and Batman. This was the first time I'd left when they were home.

"Clara." She said, and came up.

"Selina... Clara is Zero."

* * *

"Clarabel." My mother said with pleading eyes. "Please. Why did you do this?"

"Take a guess." I shot back. After there was no answer I finished for her, "Because you don't let me fight crime. In order to do something, I had to join the other side."

She left, crying, and my brother Dick, or Robin came in.

"You don't have to go bad to get attention," He said finally.

"You don't, but I do. I'm the goddamn baby, so I can't go out during nights with you guys," I said grudginly. I refused to speak with anyone for the rest of the night.

* * *

It had been decided. I was to go to Arkham to get the criminal experience until I had learned my lesson (indefinitely). I exited the car as Alfred hugged me. "I do hope you don't make the wrong choice, Young Mistress Wayne."

The guards were friendlier than I had imagined, talking to me, cracking jokes and what not, but then again, I WAS a Wayne (Bruce had announced my temporary leave three days previous). I tried to be kind back, but my resent for my Father's overprotectiveness and mother's cowardice overshadowed this, so I came out as neutral. When I put on my Arkham uniform, I sighed, putting a hand in my pocket. I felt something, and pulled it out. Of all things, I got a Joker Card. I groaned inwardly, and exited the changing room.

After a walk past a room with cells stacked on one another, filled with screaming mad men, and a creepy looking courtyard, I arrived at my cell. "Here it is," Randy, a guard that looked like Shaquile O'Neal said, opening it. "Riley, get back!"

"I DONT HAVE ANYTHING!" A feminine voice exclaimed. I peeked past the bunk bed, seeing a girl with red hair standing with her hands above her head, a set of thimbles clattering to the floor. She immediately stooped down to set them upright, making sure they were perfectly aligned.

"Is this the new cellmate?" She asked, standing back up. "Yeah,"

Randy replied, "I'm going to have to take those thimbles. They ARE your doctor's. How'd you even get them? I didn't know Dr. Hanson carried around sewing supplies..."

Riley turned slightly red, and stepped back as the guard picked them up.

"Alright, baby girl," Randy said. "The orderly will be here with your medication soon. Bye."

Although 'baby girl' wasn't applied sexually, but more kindly, it irked me in the way that Bruce's 'sweetie' had. It felt wrong... just... out of place. I shook my head in a yes, and the guard closed the doors and left.

"So..." Riley drawled. "What's with you?"

"Excuse me?" I said, a bit miffed. "Your issue, your disease."

"Oh." I said simply. "I'm not sure. They haven't had a session with me yet. My stupid dad locked me up here as a punishment for a bank heist."

She studied me with calculating eyes. "Hm... you don't look like one of Wayne's... light build... probably a gymnast. Blonde hair... English... probably somewhat smart... Wait a minute... You look like-" She faltered. "Nevermind. Anyways... I'd say you're a psycho."

"What are you?" I shot back.

"Klepto-OCD." She answered.

"Oh." I replied, putting a hand in my pocket, reaching for the card. I gasped when I realized it was gone. Realizing that I shared a room with a compulsive thief offset me a bit. I glared at her, losing all trust.

"This yours?" She asked, holding my card.

\"Yes." I said through gritted teeth. "Now give it back."

"Sorry." She said sheepishly, handing it back.

* * *

The first few days in Arkham were monotonous because the doctor my father had selected was recovering from a knife wound recieved from the cook, obviously one of the Riddler's moles. It was free time, where people that had scored under a 45 on a Insanity Interview ( Zero being normal, A hundred being a downright lunatic) had access to some of the Island's social areas. I was currently in the Botanical gardens, admiring the plants. Botany had never really been my thing, but I still saw them as beautiful things. As I exited the orchid corner, I was blasted into full alertness by a voice behind me.

"You know, Ivy gardens in these gardens. I wouldn't touch those if I were you." A kid a bit younger than me with Chalk white skin, pale blue eyes and messy brown hair said. I didn't believe this kid, but if he was correct, then I would have been about to touch a poisonous rose. Grudginly, I straightened and turned to him.

"And you are?" I asked plainly.

"Gregory Sarse. Call me Greg. It's nice to finally meet you, Clarabel Wayne."

"Yeah, peachy- wait- how do you know my name?" I asked suspisciously.

"The spirits tell me things... perhaps, I could tell you more if you gave me some of your pills?"

"Why?" I asked, my hand flying to my pocket where I stashed the meds I never took.

"I need them for my collection. I like to collect all kinds of things. Me and my girlfriend," He motioned to a spot next to him, wrapping an arm around air, "Diana used to collect them before we died. We still do, but they think we're hoarders, so our collection's much smaller due to us hiding it."

I shrugged, handing over half of the pills I had. He greedling snatched them up, and I asked my questions.

"First of all, you aren't dead, and what's over there?" I asked, pointing to the spot he had is arm around.

He acted offended, and spluttered, "First of all, it's a 'Who', and second of all, it's my girlfriend, Diana!"

I rolled my eyes, and he glowered at me. "You know why they put me in here?" Figuring I had already paid up, and information was valuable around here, I nodded boredly. "I drive grown men mad with what I tell them. They never believe me, but after I tell them what it's like to die... they believe me. And they are never the same again." He whispered solemnly.

"Great." I replied, more bored than before.

"I will make you a deal, Clarabel." He said in the same somber tone.

"A quarter of your pills every week, and you have immunity from being haunted for the rest of your life. If you stop paying, the deal's off."

"Sure." I said after thinking. If it kept a mad dog like this wacko off my back, then it was worth giving some pills I never took in the first place.

"By the way, if you don't mind me asking... how did you die?" The buzzer for free time rang, and he laughed, a cold metallic sound.

"Wouldn't you like to know. It was nice meeting you Clarabel Wayne. The spirits predict much for you."

This bristled me a lot. Instinctively, I socked him in the nose. Before I could get any retaliation from him, we were separated and returned to our cells on probation- no free time.

* * *

After a week of earning back trust, I had finally gotten back my free time priveleges. I had chosen to go to the library today, browsing through a section of classics.

"Okh ! Yeblya amerikanskogo yazyka!" (In italics, read phonetically. This means, "Argh, **ing american language!) cried a voice in annoyance from a shelf behind me. I paced around it, and saw a petite girl my age reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's stone upside down.

"Um..." I said confusedly, "You okay?"

The girl turned and her emerald eyes stared at me blankly, her mid length brown hair bobbing as she did so.

"Do you speak English?"

"Amerikanski?" She repeated.

"I'll take that as a no." I answered for myself. I pointed to myself, and said clearly, "Clare- a- bell." She picked up and said, a bit off on the accent, "Clarabel." I nodded and grinned wickedly, thinking of ways to exploit her skills with foreign language. She smiled back, and I led her to the Learning Section. Picking up a book on grammar and language learning, we sat down at a table, and I began teaching her English.

* * *

The next day, I sat in my cell before my first Therapy Session, toying with the Joker Card I'd gotten on my first day. I examined it closely, and gasped as I saw the tiny message where the copyright area would be.

**_"Meet me in the Endelli Courtyard tonight, at 7 O'clock. -J"_ **


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, baby girl," Randy said. I gasped and tucked away the card. "Time for therapy."

I scowled inwardly, but followed the guard through the dark, dank halls of the Penitentiary. Randy led me into a stark white room with lights that hurt my eyes, and closed the door. There were two chairs and a lamp, facing the already filled up seat. My therapist's name was Gwendolyn Langley, a middle aged woman with glasses and a lab coat.

"Hello." She said cheerily.

I sat down in a huff, staring at her, sizing her up. I wanted to see if I could drive her up the wall, and if so, how quickly.

"I understand that you do not want to be here, but I believe it's mandatory to understand your mind in order to find out what's been going on with you. Let's restart. Hello, my name is Dr. Langley, I am your behavioral therapist. What is your name?"

I maintained my glare, but stayed silent.

"Well," She said, taken back slightly, "Let's move on. Tell me about your childhood."

I said nothing for a while, but after calling upon the waterworks, began my tearful confession. "I was born in West Philadelphia, and used to love playing basketball... I got into a fight, which I didn't even start, and it scared my mom into sending me to live in the city of Bel-Aire..." I sniffled, hiding a giggle.

She muttered my words to herself, writing it down on a clipboard. Did this girl have a television at home? "Tell me about your mom."

"My mom's name is Nala, and my father's name is Simba. My mom's the greatest, she really is, but my dad is so overprotective."

"And how does that make you feel?" She asked sincerely.

It took all I had to not burst out in laughter.

"Confuzzled."

"Well," Langley said in her annoying happy voice, turning a page on her clipboard. "We should discuss further on this. Elaborate on your feelings."

I was about to crack, but continued, "You know, doc? After I lost my love Jack in a boating accident, it's never been the same, but I know my heart will go on."

She continued asking me these questions as I rapid-fire shot back famous movie and music quotes. I knew I was about to burst. I held my breath, not wanting to risk wasting an hour of this just to crack up and invalidate everything I had told the doctor. Black spots appeared, and I was sure the gag was over, but finally she dismissed me.

I was escorted back to my cell. Randy's watch said 5:30... I stared at the note left for my by the Joker, unsure if I was sure about going. I grudgingly decided to use Bruce's method of decision making. What were the pros of going?: Perhaps learn how to get around Arkham at night? No idea... The cons?: Going insane, getting killed, or both. I think the Pros definitely outweigh the cons. At my free hour, which I chose to begin at 7:15, I asked Randy to take me to the Courtyard.

"Okay, baby girl..." Randy said, unsure if taking me was a good idea.

On my way there, I slipped Greg some of my pills, who nodded in appreciation and took them, sticking them in his pocket. The sun was setting as I entered the courtyard.

"Thanks, Randy." I said, and he moved to the outskirts of the courtyard, trying to give me privacy. After five minutes of waiting, I sat down impatiently.

"Didn't think you'd show up, Goldy."

I ignored my new nickname as I watched the Clown Prince in the flesh appear, grinning wildly.

"Why did you call me here?" I asked curiously.

"Simple, but hold on," Joker said, and walked over to the guard.

"Hey, Smalls, can you give me the time?"

Reluctantly, Randy said okay and lifted his hand up to look at his watch. In a flash, the needle hit him in the wrist, and he fell softly to the ground. The clown dragged him into the bushes. He returned and sat down next to me.

"So, Goldy, as I was saying, I've heard a lot about you from my friends that have cells near you..."

I surpressed a gulp, but let him continue.

"And I also heard what you did with the therapist..." He said, not actually laughing this time. I was sure the end was near, but he cracked out in laughter, holding his stomach. "Creative, Goldy, creative!"

"Thanks.." I said nervously.

"Come here, I want to show you something." He waved me over. I approached him. The Joker faced me towards the moon.

"See that, up there?"

"What?"

"The bunny!"

I squinted. Slowly, I made out an ear, another ear, the body... And I burst into laughter. "How odd!"

He laughed along with me. "That's why I like you, Goldy. Not everyone on this planet is a moron after all. You see, Clarabel, most everyone takes things too seriously to find the funny side of things. But _you," _he poked me in the belly, making me giggle like a little kid. "Don't."

We laughed for a good while longer before the Joker finally caught his breath.

"Anyways, I've got a question for you. I've got a little celebration coming up, and I'm inviting you. Will you be there?" He asked earnestly, as if my attendance would be an honor. I knew this was one of his tricks, his mind games, but I figured if I said no, I'd be found hanging from my cell by a yo-yo string.

I mustered up my courage, and replied, "Yes."

He grinned from ear to ear, displaying an emotion I couldn't exactly read. "Great. I'll leave the details for later, but I'll tell you this. I'd get to know your little friends, they're also on the party list (but it's a surprise, don't tell them yet!), and they'll help you after the celebration begins. You'll know when the party begins, trust me. Well," The Joker looked from me to the bush, which was emitting loud groaning noises which, I assumed, was Randy waking up. "Looks like Smalls is coming back to Earth... I'll be leaving now. You can figure something out, I presume?"

"Yeah," I said unconcernedly, thinking up a lie (something I'd become quite adept at lately) to tell Randy.

"Good. I'll contact you soon with news about the Party." The Clown answered.

I remembered a question I'd meant to ask him since the first part of our encounter. "And Joker? Why do you call me Goldy?"

I turned around to see the bench he'd sat with me at empty with nothing but another Joker card. I shook my head in confusion, and helped Randy out of the bushes.

"Baby girl," Randy said tiredly, "What happened?"

"The stupid Arkham Castle fell down onto your head." I said, pointing to a spare brick lying around. "You've been out for five minutes. Anyways, free time's over, I'm ready to return to my cell."

* * *

The next day was the third of the month, so all of the people with under 45% on the Insanity Test with good behavior were permitted to have a luncheon. I sat with the normal for me, Elena, Greg and Riley.

"So," Riley began, "How was your date with J?"

"Ew! First of all, Joker's with Harley, and second, it was just a meeting!"

She smirked, and Elena piped up, "Who are this, Harley, speak you of?"

Riley giggled, and Greg smirked, but I shot them a glare. I guess I'd gotten good at this, because now most everyone that wasn't actually a supervillain/rogue (So Ivy, Harley, Joker, The Hatter, etc.) would cringe under it.

"She's a villain. Harley no good."

She nodded in understanding, and let me continue. "And you guys are invited to a party. I'm guessing attendance is mandatory."

There were nervous glances exchanged, "Why would Joker want us?"

"Don't know," I lied, not wanting to lose their trust by basically saying I was going to use them for something.

"So," Greg said, "The living clown... what does he want?"

"No clue," I said, honestly this time.

"Odd... the spirits know nothing of him either..."

"Anyways..." Riley cut him off, "How do we know we won't end up dead?"

"You'll die if you don't accept the invitation," I said surely. "And if you do, the chance goes down... slightly."

"Aw God..." Riley smashed her head onto the table, "WE'RE DEAD!"

She then had a panic attack, which resulted to her being returned to her cell in a straight jacket.

"More like _you guys _are dead." Greg corrected, trying to be funny.

"Please," Elena asked, "Explain this 'Joker'"

"He's a crazy person who kills people." I answered, gesticulating longer words like crazy and kill.

"Oh... I see."

"I'll be back," I said, and got up to dump my tray in the trash. As I flipped the hole to put the tray through open, someone bumped into me. I whipped around, almost smacking a young lady with blonde hair in pigtails. Harley Quinn.

"Watch it!" She snapped. I quickly turned around after apologizing. I subconsciously wondered how she managed to score so low on the I.T. and have good behavior. After I set my try down, Harley tapped my shoulder.

"Mistah J asked me to invite you to sit at me and Red's table today." She muttered.

I shrugged and followed her to the darkest corner. The only one minus Harley and I there was a lady with red hair and the regular Arkham uniform. Judging from Gotham News, I would say she was Poison Ivy.

"Hi," I said shyly.

"Who are you?" Ivy asked. I told her my first name, omitting my last name for obvious reasons.

"So..." I said akwardly. "What's up?"

"Ooh, well, Puddin' invited me to a French Dinner on top of the roof in two weeks! He said there would even be servers and fireworks and a great big party!" Harley squealed excitedly.

I heard the word party, and my mind was reeling. "Party?" I asked.

"Yeah, don't spread it, but Mistah J's throwing a big party soon. If you're invited, you get to see Gotham blow up!" She laughed.

"Really?" I asked inconspicuously.

"Yeah. I think Mistah J would like you... you have spunk. You seem familiar... But don't you dare try to steal Mistah J from me, he's mine and you better know it!"

"It's okay, I'm not going for that," I assured.

"Well good. I'll put in a good word to Puddin' for you. Now scram, brat!"

I was sure that was a relatively kind wayfor Harley to kick me out, so I got my butt out of there as fast as possible.

"What was that about?" Riley came up to my side as we began to walk back to our cell, immediately flanked by Randy.

"Oh Harley? I don't know.." I lied.

Towards the end of our walk, we bumped into someone in a narrow hall of the Mansion. The dude with black slicked hair and the sly face was being dragged- er, escorted back to his cell. As he was flailing, he jabbed something into my arm, and smiled wickedly. "An initiation. Welcome to Arkham." He said, and was led further away. As I looked over my shoulder, I could just read "Crane, S." on the back of his Arkham uniform.

Slowly, the closer we got to our cell, the more my vision began to change and distort. My deepest, darkest fears started to appear from every shadow, turn of corner. Harmless things like chairs began to morph into creatures I didn't have a name for, lunging at me, or lights on the ceiling became bloody eyeballs staring at me, or a janitor's mop and broom becoming Catwoman and Batman lurking towards me. Then I saw Bruce screaming at me and Selina, a bottle of bourbon in his hand.

_"You are the most useless child ever! All you do is complain, you little brat," He sneered, and swatted my face._

_Bruce roared, turning to Selina, "You can't even stay on the light side! You're a useless wife!"_

And no matter how much I told Randy of these things, he just shook his head. I finally resorted in flailing at the mutations, and was stabbed with something by a dancing, grinning, twisted chesire cat.

* * *

I awoke in my cell after several more nightmares. I felt dazed from whatever the cat had given me, but I would be able to sit up. Leaning against the wall, my enhanced senses heard a familiar heartbeat.

"Robin." I stated, subconsciously realizing why my cell block was empty.

I felt and heard the soft verberation of feet clanging on the metal floor of my cell. The shadows crept closer, slightly distorting to the form of an evil chameleon. I cringed when he touched my shoulder.

"Don't touch me." I growled.

"Clara, are you okay?" He asked genuinely.

I didn't answer. Exactly. "As good as the bunny on the moon."

"Clara!" He roared.

I sniggered, realizing how right the Joker was that people were idiots.

"What, afraid that I might be- _losing my mind?" _I giggled.

"I'm getting you a fleet of guards." Robin said. "Randy!"

"Robin?" He answered.

"Keep her the _hell _away from the Joker."

My guard nodded.

"Use as many badges as you want. By orders of the Justice League. I don't want her on the wrong side."

"You CAN'T make my own descisions!" I hissed.

"Clara.." He turned to me sadly. "Neither can you."


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up the next day later than usual to discover that Riley was gone from our cell. I sprang up, and called the guard nearest to my bunk.  
"Yes, Patient 0092?"  
"It's Clara." I said, annoyed.  
"Yes, Patient 0092?" He said firmly.  
I scowled, deciding where he would be found the next morning. "Why am I the only one here?"  
"You have been prohibited from all social activities until further notice excluding Therapy."  
"What?" I said, twisting a finger in my ear, seeing if there was anything in there that made me mishear him.  
"Patient 0092, you have been banned from social activities excluding Therapy."  
"And I can't go to free hour? Or the weekly soccer game?" I feigned hurt and upsetness.  
"Exactly. Is there anything else, patient 0092?"  
"No." I said simply, and retreated to my bed.  
"One more thing you must be informed of, Patient 0092." The Guard said before leaving. "You have a new therapist."  
Everything, I thought, A waste of time! I frowned, and picked up a rock. Scraping it against the floor, I began to carve a weapon to use on Guard S-T-U-P-I-D.  
I laid on my back, counting the moldy bricks on the cieling until Riley returned.  
"Hey, I heard you got banned." She said as the guard locked the cell and left wordlessly. That didn't stop me from giving him a cold glare and flashing the knife. He walked slightly faster at the sight of the rock/knife, and was out so we could have privacy.  
"Yep." I sighed, tucking the knife into my pillow. I realized something and smacked my forehead. "Awww, man! Did you see Elena?"  
"Yeah, why?"  
"I was supposed to give her three more verbs!"  
"Why are you helping her, anyways?"  
"Because I need her on my side for the party."  
"Do you seriously think that Joker's going to spare you in this party of whatever?"  
"I know it." I replied confidently. I pushed the nagging voice in my head that said 'Maybe Riley is right and something is up.'.  
She sighed. "I'll tell her tomorrow that you're confined for a while."  
"Use small words. She doesn't know that much English." I rolled my eyes. For a klepto girl, Riley was pretty smart. But then again, I guess your IQ would have to be pretty high to plan a heist on my Dad's own office building to steal a stapler. Hmm... Your IQ would be high, but your common sense low... so that evens things out.  
"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "By the way, Greg's drug ring got busted."  
"Really?" I leaned back and began drawing on the walls.  
"Yeah. Hey, I owe you for that time I stole your Joker Card. Let's make it up now. Wanna learn how to escape a cell?"  
I got to my feet in interest. "Sure."  
"So," She stated, pulling a pin out of her sock. If you're in a low level security cell, like we are, all you need to do is," She grunted, and wedged the pin between the iron grate and the electronic WayneTech gate opener. There was a bzzt, and the door clicked open. "This, and you have five seconds to slip through before the elecrical system shorts for a second and you get the ** electrocuted out of you. Got it?"  
"Right." I nodded.  
"Good. Now, we have to steal the guard's card key and make our way to the tower without being seen. You can walk wires right?"  
"Can't be much harder than a rope, can it?" I shrugged and flashbacked to me and ** learning how to scale across buildings. She led me to a shadowy corner of Hall B. As the guard turned around to partol Hall C, Riley hopped forward and, hands light as a feather, reached in the guy's back jacket pocket and pulled out a card. The JLP monkey didn't even see a thing. I grinned as I did the same thing to another guard, although not as light, and I almost got caught if not for agility and the ability to sprawl out and blend my Arkham uniform with the stone floor. He shrugged and kept patrolling.  
"That was close." Riley said plainly as we navigated the tunnels to the watch towers. "At least you didn't get caught."  
After a few minutes of silence, we made our way up to a cliff just off of the back door of the Penitentiary.  
"Okay. See that wire? You have to get across it."  
I looked at the fifteen foot cable that kept the tower upright during bad storms that affected the island in the spring. "Worth a shot. What's the worst I can do, break my neck?"  
I carefully put on foot on the wire. Another step, and one more before I almost fell but just caught myself by one hand. I gasped and pulled my self slightly closer to the wire, and, hand over hand, followed Riley, who had walked across it with the agility of a squirrel, to the guard tower.  
"Right." She whispered as we looked through the cracked, "All we're doing is distracting the guards, grabbing the sequencer, and getting our asses out of here before he gets back. So like this," She picked up a piece of glass and threw it to the other side of the tower walkway. The guard got up and went to get the commotion.  
"Now go, go go!" She hissed, and we ran. Riley picked up something that looked like an etch a sketch. "Go!"  
We scrambled back, and Riley, who hopped up, and I, who just followed, hand over hand, returned to the doorway.  
"Good job." Riley grinned wickedly. "Tomorrow we go to get the file room and see what's so big about you and the guards!"  
"Yeah." I said enthuiastically, secretly dreading the moment Riley realized my last name was Wayne.

-

"Clara." Randy said. He had dropped the nickname and all informalities after Robin informed him of my 'awful behavior'. "You're getting the chance to eat at the cafeteria today. Be careful, don't screw this up-"

"Yeah, yeah, Shaqqy," I sighed, "I know, I know, I've had the lecture before: Loss of priveleges after such good behavior blah blah blah. Let's go."

He wordlessly lead me out of the cell as we were immediately surrounded by Arkham officers in Blue. JLP's, or Justice League Police- Pop's monkeys.

"What's up with all of this extra security?" I asked innocently,

"We don't want you getting a bad influence." Randy said curtly.

I surpressed a snicker at these idiots thinking that the surroundings here's influences were bad.

I sat down at my table with a tray of brown... sludge on my tray.

"It's about time I saw you back," Riley said cheerily, "I didn't see you yesterday!"

"Birdboy took a... special interest in me."

Everyone near me made a face of disgust.

"I know, I know. Hopefully the spell will wear off soon and I'll be back regularly, though. Anyways, what did I miss?"

"Well, the Hatter and Two Face had a tussel at lunch... they were fighting over symmetry versus imagination."

"Who won?" I asked with little to no interest. I grimaced at the sludge on my fork and flicked it on the back of a passingby lunatic's head. He began barking and was escorted away.

"Two Face, he almost gouged Hatter's eye out with his coin, but-" Riley stopped as one of the Joker's goons came up.

"The boss wants you to have this." he said, and dropped off a tiny tape recorder, like the one doctors performing an autopsy use or the ones detectives hide underneath tables at important interrogations. I looked around, and noticed that the guards were occupied by a tussel breaking out between two other goons. Oh Joker, always so prepared, I thought. I waved him off and he lumbered off like the gorilla he was.

"What was that about? The spirits did not predict this..." Greg said,

"I don't know, Greg... I don't know." I said thoughtfully.


End file.
